


Another Day in Paradise

by HenleyBrowne



Category: Johnny Depp - Fandom
Genre: Faeries - Freeform, Gen, Paranormal Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-01-04 20:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18351455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenleyBrowne/pseuds/HenleyBrowne
Summary: Fionna, a faerie living in the modern mortal world, works for a media mogul in LA. Using her gifts, she helps him solve problems that arise with his various clients, earning her the nickname "Fionna the Fixer". This one-off involves a situation arising with Johnny Depp and Fionna comes to the rescue. Or does she?





	1. Chapter 1

_Fionna Speaks_

Vampires. Faeries.  Shapeshifters. Mermaids. Even giants, I suppose, though I’ve never actually seen one.  All these beings exist within the realm of the human world, yet humans convince themselves they are not real.  Why, I ask, knowing the answer full well.  It is not within their capacity to embrace human cultures different from their own, let alone an entirely different species.  Yet, time and time again, our worlds collide and there is no choice.  A fisherman alone on the sea encounters a woman with the tail of a fish, can you imagine that?  A beautiful woman, at that.  But when he returns _(if he returns),_ he convinces himself it was only a dream, a mirage, never really happened.  The woman who dreams that the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen is making love to her when in reality, it’s only an incubus passing through the night. 

That’s the way it usually happens anyway, with the human falling for the supernatural.  Not so in my story.  How did I end up here, in the 21st century in Los Angeles?  Well, sit down, pour yourself whatever it is you like to indulge in…a nice glass of wine (I recommend a 1989 Cos d'Estournel, St-Estèphe, after all, if Johnny Depp likes it, it’s got to be good!) or perhaps a Starbucks espresso or mocha frappacino and settle back.  I’ve got over nine hundred years to cover and while you won’t hear the whole story here, I can at least get you caught up on the most significant events in this adventure.

My adventure began long, long ago when a Norseman, a stranger to my land, chose to go hunting one autumn day. I remember it all so clearly, though it’s been an eternity.  The sound of dried leaves crunching under my feet as I ran across the forest floor, the smell of the damp earth, and how hurt and broken he looked, after being gored by a wild boar. He reached out his hand to me, wanting to feel another’s touch as he felt life draining from him.  I recall that as I looked upon his face, into those crystal blue eyes as deep as the sea, an irresistible radiance emanated from him.  This force alone compelled me to save his life.

Bleisi, as the stranger was called, a name meaning “ _pale one_ ” in his tongue, healed quickly under my care.  His blond hair and blue eyes differed from my people.  Bleisi was not large as humans go, but of solid build.  As time passed, I spent more and more with him, talking, laughing, and hearing tales about his world and less tending to the matters of my kingdom.  One afternoon while my human lover slept, my sister Arianna entered my chambers.

“Vianne, why do you keep this man here?  You need to send him back to his own people.”

“Why?  He is doing no harm.  When he is healed, I will show him the way home.   Until then, he stays with me.”  Naturally, as Queen, my decision was nonnegotiable.

“Cormac is unhappy that you neglect him for this human.”

“And since when does a princess become confidante to the Queen’s Consort, Arianna?   The King has shown no displeasure with me so I certainly won’t tolerate it from my Consort.  Or my sister.  Now, leave me.”

She left, but I knew trouble loomed ahead.  I had forsaken my Consort, who in my kingdom held a more coveted place than the king.  Forsaken him for a _human_.  I did love Cormac, he’d been my champion throughout my time as Queen.  But the attraction I felt for the human grew more lethal day by day. 

As his wounds healed, his body, along with the bond between us, became stronger.  When our time drew to an end, I faced only two choices:  stay or go.

Spring had arrived in the outside world and the sun shone brightly as it rose in the brilliant blue sky.  The earth, fresh and moist from the rain, had given birth to a kaleidoscope of brightly-colored wildflowers.  The forest floor, now a soft, green lichen carpet, concealed as our footsteps as we were leaving.  My man turned, took my hand and kissed me, saying, “Vianne, I will love you forever.”

“As I will love you,” came my reply.

Against the wishes of my Consort, my King and my People, I stepped through the ring with my mortal lover, leaving the world of Faerie behind me, forever.

 

We sailed to Denmark, my lover’s homeland, where we setttled in Aggersborg, a large fortress by the sea.  The ring castle served primarily as a troop garrison but there was also a strong, viable community of civilians.  Bleisi sometimes fished with other men from the village, but mostly worked as a blacksmith.  In addition to his ironwork, he had a gift for working with stones and metal, creating ornate pieces of jewelry from amber and precious stones brought from the south by traders from the Caspian Sea.  Engraving tiny symbols and runes into his talismans and jewelry, his work stood out from the more common types of adornment and was treasured by those who could afford fine things.  I still have two of these items today:  a silver pendant of Thor’s Hammer and a gold bracelet with an amber setting, engraved “ _Vianne, my eternal love_ ” in Danish on the underside. 

            About eleven years after we had returned to Denmark, Bleisi died in the early spring after fighting a winter-long illness.  I nursed him with my herbal remedies and his condition seemed to improve but in reality, the cough never completely subsided.  When I began seeing blood on his cough rags, I knew our time together was coming to an end.   Now alone in a world I knew very little about and a long way from my home, my options were clear:     return to my kingdom (alone and without love) and resume my position or join Bleisi.  The choice was easy; there was no turning back.  I lived several years with the mortal I loved.  Happy, contented years.  My life fulfilled, I, too, was ready to move on to the next plane.  But I had not aged a day since we left my People.  No graying hair, no wrinkles, no illness.  There would be no sweet transcendence for me.

            Oh, that’s not to say I didn’t try.  I did.  First with poison.  Retching and gagging, I quickly purged it from my system and felt normal within minutes.    When I tried shooting myself, the gun wouldn’t fire.  The powder would be wet or the mechanism would jam.  Tied a boulder to my waist and jumped into the sea.  The rope untied or broke.  Nothing worked.

            I realized then that immortality was my parting gift from my sister when I

renounced the rule of my people for my mortal lover.  Forcing me to live on alone was the one thing she thought she could do to hurt me.  She was right.  I mourned the loss of Bleisi daily, but I also prayed to the Goddess that she would return him to me in time.

            Since leaving the world of Faerie, I discovered that I had retained two preternatural gifts – the empathic powers of perception and persuasion.  The practical application of these abilities in the human world is that upon meeting someone, I use my perception to identify their human frailties.  Using persuasion, I help them overcome their problems by guiding them toward the path that will be most beneficial to them.  Think of me as a therapist on steroids, able to uncover someone’s deepest, darkest secret instantaneously.  By using these powers subliminally, the person is convinced that they arrived at the solution of their own accord, like an epiphany. 

            As Queen (even a dethroned one), I also have the gift of glamour, sometimes known as a “pishogue.”  A pishogue is an Irish faerie spell that distorts reality.  Casting a glamour allows me to transform my physical appearance to look younger or older, beautiful or homely, at will.   A pishogue can be used on other people and objects but these types of external spells require tremendous amounts of energy and therefore are used only when absolutely necessary.

 

            In Aggersborg, stories began circulating about “the strange widow” in the village.  I suppose that’s how wives’ tales grow about enchantresses and witches and so forth.  I knew I needed to move on so when a troop ship was heading south to Britain, I made sure I was aboard.  Once I had arrived in Britain, my good friend and ally, Morgaine of Avalon could provide the counsel I so desperately needed. 

On the ship, I took a job as a cook for the troops.  Using a pishogue, I assumed the appearance of an old, haggard woman.  Despite the gray hair and toothless maw, men still seemed determined to have their way with me.  Barbarians.  If it got too out of control, I would perform a little parlor trick.  Nothing cools a brute off like watching his manhood appear to shrink before his eyes.  This cruel, but effective pishogue saved me more than once. 

            Once docked on the River Thames in Londonium, I disembarked and headed to an inn. I retained a matronly appearance, but now dressed as a nun.  Traveling as a member of the sisterhood ensured safe passage to Glastonbury, where a Christian abbey had been built.  The innkeeper arranged for an escort and at daybreak, we set out on horseback.

            I had been to Avalon many times to visit Morgaine and frankly, she was the only one who could lift my spirits now.   Upon arriving at Glastonbury, I paid my escort and thanked him for his service.  Turning away from the abbey, I walked to a wooded area near the lake.  In the shade of the huge oak trees, I dissolved the glamour and assumed my natural appearance.

I stood at the Chalice Well for only a moment before being joined by a beautiful woman, whose flowing dark hair, braided in a queue down her back, was bound by a solid gold circlet around her forehead.  Her plain blue gown draped loosely over her well-formed body, yet she looked more elegant than a courtier.  Nimue was Morgaine’s priestess, a highly regarded position among faeries and her oldest friend.

            “Blessings be, Nimue.  Morgaine too busy with Arthur to greet an old friend?”

            “Blessings to you, m’lady.”   She bowed her head slightly in deference,  acknowledging me as a visiting Queen.   “You know she’d be here if she could.  May I be the first to welcome you home?”

            She took my hand and we stepped through the portal together.  The sun shone brightly on the other side, in the enchanted world of Ynys Witrin, the true side of Glastonbury.   Already, in this enchanted place, the world seemed bright again.  Nimue led me to one of the small cottages that dotted the landscape.  The wooden furnishings, though minimal, were beautifully carved with intricate design.  The bed, large enough for two and covered in a thick, velvet quilt, filled the room.  Fresh clothing hung in the armoire, while a basin filled with fresh water awaited me so that I could wash up after the long trip.  I looked at the bed inquisitively and then to Nimue.

She smiled knowingly.   “Morgaine thought perhaps Cormac might be joining you.  She wanted you to be…comfortable.”

I nodded resignedly as Nimue left me alone with my thoughts.  Soon, there was a light tap on the door and in came Morgaine.  As fair of face as the day I’d first met her an aeon ago, her beauty overwhelmed me.  I’d always admired Morgaine and even though I was her equal in Faeriedom, her majesty somehow intimidated me.  Immediately sensing my emotion, she adjusted her glamour, toning down her appearance to seem almost ordinary, if that were possible.  The sparkling glean of her hair dulled, the bright green color of her gown faded.

“Vianne, I would have thought you’d overcome that by now,” she chastised me.

“Morgaine, you’ve always been my _beau ideal,_ you know that.”

We kissed each other’s cheek and embraced like sisters parted for too long.  She looked me over and just shook her head and drew me close to her.

            “I’m sorry for your loss, Vianne, but my love, he _was_ a mortal.  You had to know the end was inevitable.”

            Though time had passed, the pain soared through my body and I tried to speak between the sobs.

“Yes, and I fully expected to join him, Morgaine.  Why would Arianna do this to me?  Does she hate me that much?”

            “Well, she is quite upset.  Arianna doesn’t appreciate the intricacies of being Queen, even if it’s only Queen in Absentia.  She has been forced to rule in your shadow, and she assumes she’s continually compared to your standard.” 

Morgaine sat down at the table and poured us each a goblet of faerie wine.  Handing me the glass, she continued.  “The People don’t feel that way, they accept her as Queen but they also realize that she wasn’t born to rule, as you were.  The sovereignty and all it embodies never appealed to her, even when she was a Princess.  In her defense, Vianne, she’s had to step into some pretty big slippers.  So, her parting gift to you was to punish you in the only way she knows, forcing you to live forever without your lover.  She sees only one path for you – to return and assume the rule of your People.” 

Morgaine laughed so lightly it sounded like tiny bells ringing.   “Obviously, she doesn’t know you as well as I do, Vianne.  You’re stubborn.  Oh, you might return at some point in time, but only as your decision, not by anyone else’s hand or desire.”

I took a long drink from my goblet and let out a sigh.  “I can’t go back, Morgaine.  I know he’ll return.  Fate would not have brought us together just for one brief time.”

“Then I will pray that the wheel turns quickly in your favor for your mortal to reincarnate and that you find him again.  I, above all others, understand the intricacies of loving a mortal, Vianne.”

            I thought of Morgaine’s long love for Arthur.  She saved him, just as I had saved my mortal.  The difference was that Arthur had moved into legend long ago and “was sleeping in Avalon to return when England needed a true and fair king.”  Right.  Arthur was in paradise, surrounded by faeries whose primary job was to attend to his every desire.  Oddly enough, Arthur, by all appearances anyway, stayed faithful to Morgaine, now that he had immortality.  Maybe it was to make up for all the misery he had put her through when he was King.  Though Guinevere kept him company in life, Morgaine now had him for eternity.  If only My People had been as tolerant of Bleisi.  But Bleisi was only a man and Arthur was King so he had that in his favor, plus Morgaine’s always been the ballsy one.  I was dedicated, but Morgaine was downright formidable. 

No, I now belonged in the outside world where I knew my mortal would come back, but the biggest question was how would I ever hope to find him again?  Could I be lucky enough to have one more lifetime with him?  Oh, please, Goddess, let him find his way back to me.  Little did I know that would become my mantra.

 

_Present Day_

The sound of Fionna’s phone vibrating on the wooden side table top jarred her out of meditation, then the marimba intro to the Rolling Stones’ _Under My Thumb_ began to play.  She swam to the edge of the grotto and knowing that she had just spoken with him this morning wondered what could possibly have inspired another call this afternoon?

“Michael…I thought you said you were leaving for the Springs?”

The roar of his Saleen S7 twin turbo going through its shift pattern echoed in the background.

“I’m on my way to your place, bringing a guest.  Be there in 10 if boulevard traffic cooperates…”

The phone went dead.

Christ, what now?  Everything had been calm this morning.  I thought maybe I’d catch a few days off and head to Catalina.

            As President and CEO of a major media conglomerate, Michael Stewart touched every aspect of the entertainment industry:  film, television, music, publishing, Internet.  His spot on the Forbes 400 held fast for the past decade.  Calculating and controlling, Michael was allergic to the word “no”.  Fionna had grown used to his demands over the years, at all times of the day and night, after all, celebrities rarely had meltdowns, attempted suicide or were arrested during the daylight hours when it was convenient for everyone else.  Fionna Flynn was Michael Stewart’s go-to girl when adversity struck.  More than a therapist or counselor, Fionna possessed the inexplicable ability to solve problems no one else could.  She pulled herself out of the warm water and reluctantly wandered inside to change into something more appropriate.  Who would it be this time?  Must be someone important if Michael postponed his weekly poker game…

            She threw on a pair of jeans, a turquoise gauze shirt, then brushed her hair and added a quick touch of blush.  As she went into the kitchen to set up the French press for Michael’s coffee, she tidied up along the way. Soon the roar of the engine rang through the air as the Saleen climbed the hill to her house.  Fionna wandered to the front door and peered out.  The car wheeled into the circular drive and screeched to a stop in front of the walkway to her house.  She watched as his long legs enfolded from the low slung car…hmm, still in his usual bespoke suit, tie and shirt so he hadn’t changed yet to leave for Palm Springs, the site of his weekly poker game.  Her eyes then moved to the figure slowly trying to figure out how to get out of the butterfly door.  Battered hat pulled low, shades, chains jangling around his neck.  As he stepped to the front of the car, heading to the walkway, she took in the tattered jeans and totally trashed Doc Martens.  Johnny Depp had arrived.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael gunned the engine and headed down through the Hollywood Hills to the 210 heading east to Palm Springs.  Dammit, he hated leaving him with her.  Women seemed to have a soft spot for the actor, even with recent events in his life.  Like an orphaned waif, they all wanted to mother him.  But Fionna wouldn’t fall for that…she’d been around too many A-listers throughout her career.   And right now, in the back of his mind, he instinctively knew she was too involved with the Cian Murray situation to even consider involvement with anyone else, not even Johnny Depp.

Fionna was different than other women.  In the twenty-five years he’d known her, her unchanging nature was the most amazing thing about her.  Despite all the tough circumstances he put her through, Fionna looked as beautiful today as she had when he first found her, working in the Los Angeles office of one of England’s hottest bands.  With long blond hair and those lapis lazuli eyes, she looked more like a girl from Malibu than London.  Short in stature, but a rack on her that wouldn’t quit.  Though her legs weren’t long, they were marvelously shaped with trim little ankles and calves.  Once, when she had her hair up, he teased her about looking like that sexy fairy in the Disney movie “Peter Pan”.  Always dressed in the trendiest clothes, Fionna Flynn never lacked for admirers once she hit the LA rock scene.

Michael reflected on the night he met Fionna.  Back then, he was still building his empire, one artist at a time.  His biggest client was a singer-songwriter named Tristan Cooper, a talented trust fund baby who, unfortunately, couldn’t cope with his massive overnight success.  Night after night, Tristan drowned himself in pills and booze.  He’d had been working on an album at the recording studio where Fionna’s office was housed and the two had become acquainted.  Whenever Tristan disappeared, the producer would find him in Fionna’s office, just chatting away.  Not on this night, however. On this night, Tristan was running down the halls of the Chateau Marmont in his underwear with a groupie hostage.  Why Michael called Fionna, he still didn’t know, it just felt like if anyone could get through to that dumbass, it would be her.

“Fionna, you don’t know me, but my name is Michael Stewart…”

 “Yes, Michael, what can I do for you?”

Ooh, maybe she did know him.  She at least knew _of_ him.

“I understand that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Tristan Cooper lately.”

“Well, yes, he stops by for a chat now and again. Is he missing again?”

 “Look, I don’t really know why I’m calling you about this but Tristan’s locked himself in the penthouse at the Chateau.  Do you know Trudy Trueheart?”

Everyone on the Sunset Strip knew Trudy and her gaggle of pubescent groupies who hung out at the studio.  At the ripe old age of fifteen, Trudy was their fearless leader.

“Yes, I know Trudy.  Why?”

“It seems he is holding her captive, in some manner.  I’m probably asking a lot but do you think you could perhaps pop on over there and talk some sense into him before he does something he’ll certainly regret later?”

To his surprise, Fionna didn’t balk.   She didn’t even hesitate.  She grabbed a cab and headed off to the Chateau Marmont, a few blocks away.  After convincing Tristan to let Trudy go, she persuaded him to give up the gun he was waving about, threatening to kill himself. 

Michael was prepared to have Tristan committed, at least undergo a 72-hour hold to get him calmed down.  Then Fionna made the oddest request.  She’d asked Michael if she could take Tristan to Colorado.  Seems she had a little cabin or something in the mountains there.  After three weeks in seclusion with Fionna, it was as though a miracle had occurred.  Tristan was eating healthy food, going for long walks, weaned off the pills and his alcohol consumption consisted of a couple of light beers.  By the time he was ready to leave, he was a changed man.  He decided he had enough of the rocker life and was going to quit the music business.  But first, Fionna convinced him to finish the album which had nearly consumed his heart and soul.  The album became one of the top-selling albums in pop music history, and still made money today, a portion of which flowed right into Michael’s bank account.

Through that experience, Michael and Fionna became friends, then partners, those theirs was an unofficial agreement.  He recognized she possessed special qualities, like her ability to put people at ease, to calm them, to get inside their heads and solve problems in a way that he never could.  So whenever one of these little whiny, ungrateful brats pulled one of their attention-grabbing stunts, well, Michael just called Fionna and she took care of it.  He put her on a consultant retainer and she became his secret weapon, helping him expand his company into the huge conglomerate it was today.

In the past two decades, she had saved him millions.  Yeah, they had their disagreements but always arrived at a solution that worked for everyone.  She was what now…almost fifty? That hardly seemed possible and she certainly didn’t look it.  She had a few laugh wrinkles around her eyes and that was it.  Yet she showed no signs of surgical reconstruction, not even Botox or Restylane or whatever happened to be the latest enhancement process for the women of Beverly Hills.  Fionna didn’t look _fake_ …she looked…young.  Her svelte body was as firm and hard as ever, not that he’d ever really felt it in more than a casual hug between friends.  But she had worn that bikini when they were in Hawaii a while back.  No mottled skin or spongy cellulite anywhere.  That was after his second divorce, when he’d hoped maybe they would get together.  That didn’t happen and he went on to marry wife #3, the third blue-eyed, petite blond to become Mrs. Michael Stewart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johhny and FIonna continue to get to know each other.

I watched as he shuffled across the small bridge that led to my door.  Michael followed behind, carrying a file box.  I opened the door to let them in when the smell hit me.  A smell I knew all too well but couldn’t reconcile with the man walking toward me.  Seeing me in the doorway, he gave a small wave and said “Hi, I’m Johnny.”  There was a bit of a panicked look in his eye as he turned back to see where Michael was.  I looked him in the eye and followed the proper protocol at once before Michael got close enough to hear:

“Welcome to my home, Johnny Depp.  Won’t you please come in?”

His eyes opened wide but he merely said, “Thank you” and crossed the threshold.  I waited for Michael to reach the door, where he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and dropped the box inside the door.  Michael went into the great room, made himself comfortable and motioned for Johnny to take a seat.  The first thing he noticed were the flowers – they had increased since his visit two days ago.

            “What the hell is up with these flowers?  Seriously, who is sending them all?  This is ridiculous…”

The flowers had been arriving every day since one of Michael’s previous projects had left for Europe.  Cian Murray and I had a connection that bonded us, but unfortunately, I was the only one who knew it at the present time.  Though he wanted our relationship to move to another level, I was hesitant due to the age difference (and a million other reasons).  He’d gone back to Europe for a few weeks before starting his next movie and he had been sending me flowers every day, just to make sure I didn’t forget him.  Michael couldn’t know he was the one…it would open a hornet’s nest of problems I wasn’t prepared to deal with today.

            “I told you the other day…there is never a card and Mark’s swears they don’t have any information.  I still think it’s you….”  I brushed his cheek with a quick kiss and then hurried into the kitchen.

I poured Michael’s St. Helena frenchpressed espresso and opened a bottle of Petrus Pomerol I’d been saving for a special occasion.  Yes, I know it’s a $2,000 bottle of wine, but you don’t host Johnny Depp every day, though I had the feeling that was about to change.  I poured a glass for each of us and took it all into the great room on a tray. 

“Don’t I get wine?” asked Michael.

“It’s not five yet.  You never drink before five.”

“Yeah, I might make an exception today.  No, coffee’s fine, love.  Thank you.”

I handed Johnny his glass with a smile.  He nodded in thanks and lifted the glass to his nose to smell the bouquet.

“Exceptional.”  He took a small sip.  “Is this Petrus?”

“Very good.  Your reputation as a wine connoisseur precedes you, glad to know it’s true.”

“Is that from my cellar?” asked Michael with an edge to his voice.

“No, it’s from mine,” I replied decisively.  “It’s not every day Johnny Depp shows up at my door.”

Michael let out a sigh.

“You won’t be so happy with his reputation after you go through all this…” and he gestured to the files within the box.  “Some shit is about to go down and I need it handled yesterday.  The files are numbered, start with the one labeled “today”.  Most of the rest are background.  Can he stay here for the weekend? I’m going on to the Springs from here and I’ll be there til Sunday night.”

“Ah, I don’t need to stay here, I have a house…a complete complex actually.  And then I have a loft downtown, or did I sell that?  Why can’t I just go home?”

“Because I need you off the map this weekend and this is a good place for you to be.  I already told you this.  Fionna is going to work with you and come up with a plan on how to handle this mess.  Do you understand?”

“You don’t need to act like I’m a child…”

“Apparently I do, Johnny.  You’re in a world of shit you don’t even realize and I’ve got a ton of money invested in this movie so I need you not to fuck it up.  Fionna helps people with situations like this.  It’s her job.  I told you that.  All I’m asking is 72 hours.  You agreed to give me that.”

“I did?  That doesn’t sound like me….”

“Think of it as an intervention of sorts, only Fionna’s place is more like a country club.  There’s a nice pool out back, she’s got a great view out there, she’s a good cook and hopefully she won’t keep plying you with $2,000 bottles of wine that I’ll probably have to reimburse her for.”

He looked over at me and drained the remainder of his coffee.

“You got this?”

“Oh yeah, sure.  I got it.  Babysit Johnny for 72 hours.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he gave me a quick kiss goodbye and was out the door.

Johnny sat on the couch, looking around at my house.

I shrugged my shoulders.  “More wine?”

“Sure…” he got up and followed me to the kitchen.  The cloying smell of him was overpowering when he stood close to me.  The earthy, musky smell of ambergris combined with allspice…a smell I known for many, many years.

“And by the way, Johnny…how long have you been a vampire?”


	4. Chapter 4

His eyes stared into mine.

“Oh, joined the band in 2015.  Alice has been a friend for a long time.”

I stared back.

“Not what I’m talking about.  If we are to accomplish anything here this weekend, I need your complete honesty.  I can’t help you without it.  So, I ask you again…”

He looked down at his wine glass.

“About two years.  And how did you know?”

“I could smell you before you even got to the door. That’s why I invited you in…that would have been a little awkward to explain to Michael. C’mon, sun is setting, let’s move to the patio.  And besides…it’s the only place you can smoke.”

“What do you mean ‘smell me’?  I showered yesterday, didn’t wash my hair, but is it that offensive?  And yeah, how did you know I’m jonesin’ for a smoke…Michael wouldn’t left me smoke in the car.”

We sat around the firepit and gazed at the mixture of coral, orange, and red in the sky as the sun cast its rays through the broken clouds.  Johnny talked as he rolled his cigarette.  Mixing an abundant bit of pot with the tobacco, adding a “you don’t mind, do you?”  as he lit up and inhaled deeply.

“So, tell me…how do you know about vampires?”

“Why?  You don’t think you’re the only one, do you?”  I laughed lightheartedly.

“I don’t know any here.  I’ve never met another in L.A.”

“Well, I’m guessing that’s about to change.  Have you fed today?”

“No.”

“OK…that’s not good.  Let me fix you a proper drink.  I’ll be back.”

I went back into the house and went downstairs to one of the spare bedrooms.  Josef usually stayed in the guest house when he visited, but I kept some blood bags in the fridge downstairs just in case.  Bringing up a bag of A positive, I mixed it with the wine and took it out to him.

“Try this.”

He smelled it, his pupils dilated and then came the fangs.  He sipped and then drank heartily.

“Fuck, that’s amazing! Should I ask why you have blood – wait, are you a vampire, too?”

I laughed deeply and shook my head.

“Not hardly, God, you’re just a baby.  A neophyte.  Where’s your sire?  Didn’t he teach you anything?”

“Well, if you truly know vampires, _you know_ I can’t tell you that.  But, no, I wasn’t around him much after…after it happened. My God, this place is beautiful…the lake is gorgeous.  Very quiet, peaceful.  So, what’s with you and Michael?  He doesn’t live here, does he?  Why don’t you live together? And do you do all his dirty work for him?”

“God, you’re nosy.  No, he doesn’t live here.  We don’t live together because we’re not ‘together’…Michael is married.  I don’t consider it ‘dirty’, and it’s usually not much work.  I like helping people get back on their paths so that they can live the life they’re meant to live.  You know, I haven’t even looked in the box yet and I don’t know what your problems are, but I’m guessing they stem from your condition and the fact you don’t know how to deal with your new life.”

“You’re very beautiful, you know that?”  He laughed a Jack Sparrow snicker.  “Of course, you know it.  You’ve probably got admirers all over the place.  I mean, besides Michael.  Is he in love with you or what?”

“Yeah, let’s not discuss that right now.  That story is way too long and involved.  Suffice it to say that our relationship, while very personal, is not intimate.  We’ve been together a long time and share lots of history.  Does it bother you, not getting high?”

“It did at first, but then I realized it’s just a ritual for me.  And why not smoke?  It’s not like it’s going to kill me…” again, that hearty laugh. 

“What do you miss most?”

He looked somber for a moment.

“Food.  A good steak.  Chocolate cake.  Pizza.  Anything really. And a woman.”

“You haven’t been with a woman for two years?”  This was incredulous.  All vampires I’d encountered were notoriously horny.

“No, no.  I’ve had sex.  Lots of sex.  Sex, as I sense you must know as well as I,….it’s not the same without love and intimacy.  I have not had a relationship with a woman.  I miss that.  Horribly.  Would you like to be my girl?”

“Oh, Johnny, I’m so sorry to hear that. And no, I CAN’T be your girl.  I’m sort of promised to another.”

“The one who sent all the flowers?  Does Michael know?”

“It might be and no, Michael doesn’t know.  It’s complicated.”

“Life sure as shit is.  Do you know this is the longest conversation I’ve had with a woman in months?  How is it that I feel so at ease with you?”

Fionna sighed softly, more to herself.

“Johnny, do you know what an empath is?”

“Mmmm…someone with empathy?”

I laughed at the obviousness of the question.  “Actually, yes.  An empath, for lack of a better comparison, is like a psychic or a clairvoyant, someone who uses their perception and intuition to learn about a person.  Through my emotional connection with someone, I am able to perceive information about that person’s life, what works to their benefit and inversely, what works against their nature.  I try to help them overcome their limitations and show them the possibilities in their lives by making better choices.  I’ve built a very successful reputation using that skill.  Michael wants to get to the bottom of whatever is causing you to make poor decisions so he doesn’t bleed to death financially:  it’s my job to figure out how to do that.”

He stared in disbelief.  “Seriously?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it.  I try and make a connection with a person and if I can, there’s kind of an exchange of energy between us.  I process the information I get, sort it all out and then figure out what choices would be most beneficial to the individual, physically, mentally and emotionally.  I’ve never done this with someone like you before, but obviously, I’m already reading you pretty well.”

“What am I thinking right now?”

I laughed.  “Sorry, doesn’t work that way.  I’m not a mentalist.  But you’re probably trying to figure out how to get me to sleep with you.”

“Ah, so you can read minds.  Do you see into the future?  Talk to dead people?

“Only you.  Oh, and a few others.”  I laughed again, gee, we really were having fun.  “Departed spirits?  No.” 

Communicating with spirits held no attraction to Fionna as her hands were filled with the problems of the living.  Premonitions, however, often came hand in hand with perceptions when she was reading someone.  Most often they were visual, like a movie in her head or when she was involved directly, it would be like stepping into a separate reality.

 “I can’t make predictions about the future in general, and random information just doesn’t come out of the blue.  My abilities only work on a one-on-one basis.  The success of the process depends on how open and receptive the person I’m working with is to my help.”

“Fionna, I don’t want to be like this.  I’m so angry, and I get upset.  I can’t control my emotions.”  His eyes went almost black.

“Hang on.” 

Fionna went back into the house, grabbed another bag of blood and brought it out to him.

“Drink.”

Johnny ripped it open and drained the bag.

“First of all, you have to stay sated.  I assume you have a connection for blood? How have you been feeding?”

“I do that glamour thing to, you know, groupies and girls that hang around.  They don’t even remember it.  I heal the marks, everyone goes away happy.”  Fionna shot him a disapproving look.  “Hey, at least I don’t have to worry about STDs…”

Just then, “Its Such A Small World” burst forth from Fionna’s phone.

“Sorry, I have to take this.  Hold that thought…”

Fionna stepped back inside as she answered “Hey there…”

Cian’s voice came back, “Fionna…did you like your delivery today?”

The single red rose in a crystal Waterford vase sat on the kitchen counter.

“It’s beautiful and smells amazing.  Thank you.”

“Whatcha doin’?

“Actually, I’m having a glass of wine on the deck with a client.”

“I thought you were going to take some time off.  Did something come up?”

“Yeah, unexpectedly.  Just a short term thing.”

“Who is it?”

“Cian, you know I can’t talk about my work.  Do you know when you are coming back to LA?”

“Not yet, but hopefully soon.  Is this highly confidential person male by any chance?”

“Look, can I call you back in the morning?  Are you still in Paris?”

“Yes, but I’m heading to bed now.   I hate this time difference.  OK, call me when you get up.  Miss you.”

“Miss you too.  See you soon.”

Fionna hated cutting Cian off, the man who she’d loved for centuries.  She still didn’t know what she was going to do about their relationship.  He clearly wasn’t going to just go away nor did she want him to but how it was all going to work out hadn’t shown itself to her.  The patio door slid open.

“Loverboy?”

“Noneya.  C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”

She led him down the stairs to the bedroom usually reserved for her longtime friend Julian Barnes.  The décor was contemporary, in subdued dark blues and greens.  Julian’s vintage Gibson Hummingbird sat on a stand in the corner.  Johnny immediately went to it, picked it up and strummed a few chords.

“This is beautiful, do you play?”

“No, it’s Julian’s.  He leaves guitars everywhere.”

“Julian?  Julian Barnes?”  He immediately put the guitar down and stared at it as though it might bite.

“Yeah. And go ahead, he won’t mind.  He isn’t obsessive about his things.”

“Jesus, who are you?  Julian Barnes has a room, at your house?”

“Uh-huh. We’ve known each other a long time, 20 years or more.  He’ll be here next week, if you want to come by.  And no, he’s not a vampire.”  I chuckled to myself.  Though he easily could have been, I thought.

“Look, can I ask you a favor?” Fionna looked at him expectantly.

“Sure.  What is it?”

“Would you mind changing into something less “Johnny”?  I have some things here that would probably fit, just so you’ll be more comfortable.  Maybe lose the hat, some of the jewelry?  It’s a bit distracting.”  She nodded towards the en suite.  “The bathroom is fully stocked with everything you might need – if you do need anything else, let me know and we’ll get it tomorrow. Come on back upstairs when you’re ready.”

“Hmm, ok.  Thanks.”

Fionna went back upstairs and could hear the faint sounds of the guitar being played.  Smiling to herself, she realized maybe it was all going to work out okay.  Half an hour later, Johnny emerged from downstairs, hair wet from the shower, dressed in a plain white T-shirt that was a little large on him and black sweatpants minus all his mojo jewelry but one cross.  The eyeliner was gone.  He looked twenty years younger.

“Can’t believe I’m wearing Julian Barnes workout clothes!  Or are these Loverboy’s?  Michael’s?” he teased.

Fionna laughed.  “Honestly, I don’t know who they belong to.  It sorta gets like a halfway house around here sometimes.  You and Julian are very similar in size so could be his.  **Definitely not Michael’s**.”

He leaned his head over towards her.

“Do I still smell?”

“Yes, you do.  You smell like a vampire, all musky and earthy and spicy.  But you smell like a clean vampire.  Do I smell to you? “  Fionna held out her arm .

“Hmm, nice.  Very fresh and clean, like soap.”  That was very odd – most vampires could smell a fairy.  He really did have a lot to learn. “Is there more wine?”

“Of course.  Do you want it mixed?”

“No, I’m okay for now.  Just wine.”

I poured out the remainder of the Petrus and we retired to the great room. 

“Johnny, I have one thing I need to make clear to you.  Under no circumstances are you to have any physical contact with me, ok?  Not a hug, spontaneous kiss, nothing.”

He looked a bit puzzled but smiled. 

“Michael made that _very_ clear.  No worries.”

Fionna shot him a hard look.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with Michael.  Just don’t, ok?”

“Sure.  I don’t presume to take liberties with women, especially ones I’ve just met.  I’m really not that guy.”

“I know you’re not.  You’re actually quite an introvert.  So, do I need to open the box or do you want to tell me what happened to bring you to my doorstep?”

“Well, I’m assuming it’s the fuckin’ paparazzi thing…”

“What happened?”

“I grabbed the guy’s camera and well, I sorta of crushed it…with my hand.  And then I chucked it…about 100 yards.”

“Who was the photog?”

“One of the TMZ kids, I think Michael said.”

“What did he look like?  Were there any other paps around?  People with phones?”

“No, I don’t think so.  Some nerdy looking kid with glasses.  I’d just come out of the dispensary…”

“What the hell were you doing there?  Surely you have some assistant to do that for you?”  His private staff was legendary – cooks, body guards, housekeepers, in addition to his professional bastion of lawyers, accountants, managers.

“I like to look, is that a fucking crime?  I’d just like people to leave me alone for five fuckin’ minutes…”  The temper was rising.

“Hey, not the enemy here.  I get it.  It’s just that, jeez, Johnny, you gave that up about a million years ago.  No matter what hat you put on, what shades, you’re still Johnny Depp.  You’re news.  People want to be close to you, talk to you, touch you.  You’re like a unicorn, dude.”

He began to laugh.  “Yeah, that’s what I am, a fuckin’ unicorn.”  He took a sip of wine. “But you know, back in the day, I used to take the kiddies to Disneyland and I could go completely unnoticed.”

“Yep, and I bet you didn’t have on that gigantic hat, and a million chains, and those ripped to pieces, baggy ass jeans anyone would recognize immediately. Right?”

“Yeah, usually just a beanie and some shades, t-shirt, jeans.  You keep your head down and keep moving.”

“So why don’t you do that now?”

“Mmmm…don’t know really.  Don’t know when that changed.”

While we talked, I picked up the folder from the box.  The photog was a kid named JoJo, I knew him well.  This wouldn’t be too bad, just a call to JoJo and to Harvey.  Harvey owed me lots of favors from info I’d passed to him previously.  We spoke on a weekly basis on one matter or another.

Fionna picked up phone, knowing the call she needed to make first.  She wasn’t sure where Josef was but “Find Friends” showed Chicago.  She texted “you busy” and a moment later, a ding came back. 

“what’s up”

“can you talk”

“gimme a sec call you soon”

Soon the sound of Freddie Mercury’s voice singing “Ohh, you’re the best friend…been with you such a long time, you’re my sunshine”… was heard throughout the room.  Fionna knew she may as well talk in front of Johhny because he’d hear everything anyway with his enhanced vampire hearing.  No secrets to be had here.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.  What’s going on?”

“What are you doing in Chicago?”

“Waiting to take off from Midway.  Had to stop for a meeting this afternoon.  I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“I’ve got some company this weekend.  Uh…Johnny Depp is here.”

“At the house?  You just picking up random actors these days?”  Josef’s deep toned laughter rang through the phone.  “What’s he done now that Michael dropped him on your doorstep?”

“A little altercation with one of Harvey’s kids.  I can handle it pretty easily.”  She paused a moment before continuing.  “Mmm…he’s not what you’d expect.  He’s different…”

“Pixie, from the tone of your voice, I do not like the direction in which this conversation is heading.  What’s different about him…”

“He’s like you.”  The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening.

“And I’m hoping you mean that he’s a handsome millionaire with a weakness for crazy little blondes.”

“Nope, not that.  The other thing.”

“I’ve not heard a word about this.”  Josef’s previously cheery mood was replaced with a somber tone.  “That’s a bit disconcerting.  Are you OK?  Did you lay down the rules?”

“Well, apparently Michael threatened to remove his manhood if he so much as looks at me, so I think we’re okay on that front.  And yes, I did reiterate that point.”  Fionna was smiling at Johnny as she spoke.  “He’s fed, hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind.  That’s fine.  There’s plenty down in the guest house if you need more.  I’ll be there in a few hours, text you when I land.  You okay with this?”

“Well, better me than anyone else I can think of. We’ll see you soon.  Love you.”

“Love you too Pixie.  Be careful…and try not to kill Johnny Depp.”  Josef laughed and the phone went dead.

            “So, Fionna, do you know a lot of vampires?” Johnny asked with a laugh.

            “Just one.  He happens to be my best friend.”

            “You know, you are such a weird little chick.  You have a very strange vibe about you.  Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not in a bad way, just weird…so this friend is coming to visit?  Does he live here with you?”

            “No one really lives with me, like I said, kind of a halfway house.  Josef stays in my guest house most of the time if he has business in LA.  He has other homes, but we like to spend time together, catching up on our lives.”  Fionna glanced around the room at all the flowers, their fragrances filling the air.  “He’ll be surprised at my news this trip.”

            “Ah, I see…he doesn’t know about Loverboy.”

            “Will you stop with the Loverboy?  And no, he doesn’t know…yet.  As I said, it’s complicated.  But we’re not here to solve my problems…let’s get back to you.”

Fionna shuffled through the papers.  There had been a couple of other incidents where Johnny’s temper had flared, but they were written off to drunkenness.  That’s good.  Fionna was confident that Josef would be a positive influence on him, if Josef was willing to take it on.  Big if but Johnny would be a jewel in his crown and mega bucks for Josef’s company in the long run…to say nothing of the satisfaction Josef would get from stealing him away from Michael.  That would be her trump card.  It would be beneficial to Johnny in the long run, financially and personally.  Josef could help him transition to his new life…again, if he was willing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josef's story

 

Josef Constantin met the woman now known as Fionna Flynn during the late 1700’s.  She had moved to the town of Eze-sur-Mer in the south of France between Nice and Monaco where she opened a small bistro.  Josef lived in a large chateau in Eze proper, in the fortress on the mountaintop, looking out over the sea.  Discreet even in those days, no one in the tiny village had the slightest inkling he was a vampire.  He could walk in daylight, though he preferred the twilight hours, nocturnal purely by choice. 

In his human life, Josef had been trained as a stone mason.  The year was 1457 and his work had caught the eye of Vlad, the new prince of Wallachia.  It was his second reign of power in the region of southern Romania.  After the ravaging war with the Ottomans, Vlad was anxious to rebuild his country. The young ruler and the stone mason, both in their mid-20s, became friends despite the difference in their social classes.  Vlad quickly recognized Josef’s talent as an architect and promoted him accordingly.  In the palace, Josef caught the eye of a beautiful courtier, who was taken with his flowing dark hair and smoldering hazel eyes.  Determined to keep her lover forever by her side, she passed her curse onto him.  She taught him the basics of survival, but tried to keep him as a slave to her passion.  In the end, it was her undoing.

Josef passed the years traveling the European continent, sometimes encountering others of his kind, but primarily living a solitary life.  He had learned to live as civilly as a predator could, never taking the blood of an innocent, sometimes surviving on animal blood alone.

On this particular evening, he had gone down to the shore where he enjoyed walking at sunset.  Afterwards, he stopped by the little bistro to enjoy a glass of wine before returning home.  He’d heard talk among the villagers about the newcomer and was anxious to make her acquaintance.

As soon as he entered the bar, he caught her scent and she his, though neither gave any indication.  Josef stared at the slight woman behind the counter, her auburn hair partially secured upon the top of head.  Even in the failing light, her beauty was stunning.  Porcelain skin and a body so perfectly proportioned, she resembled a statue of an angel he’d seen in Florence.

The woman greeted the handsome stranger, perceiving immediately he wasn’t human, at least not a live one.  He had been once, this she knew, but she had never encountered any of his kind in the world.  She only knew of the Dreach-Fhoula through legend, a story long passed among her people.

“Good evening, monsieur.  I’m sorry, I’ve already closed the kitchen. May I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Wine would be perfect.  Thank you, Madame DuBois.”

“Please, Anne-Sophie.  And it’s mademoiselle, I am not married.”

“Then Anne-Sophie it is.  Please call me Josef.”

The two chatted until long after closing hours and Josef offered to walk her home.  The walk home evolved into a late dinner at the chateau the following evening.  At dinner, Josef confronted the woman.

“Anne-Sophie, where are you from originally?”

“I told you last night I was from the Greek Islands, Josef, is your memory playing tricks on you?”

The dark-haired man smiled kindly.

“Yes, your ancestors, your very _ancient_ ancestors, may have indeed been Nereids from the Mediterranean.  But I think you are from further north.”

            He smiled at her, a soft, friendly smile.  “Anne-Sophie, if we are to be friends, let us be direct.  You are not human,” he stated without judgment.  “I know this because I am in a similar situation.  My situation provides me with incomparable perception, unfailing perception.  We both know we are not what we seem.  I mean you no harm, and you recognize that, otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here tonight.  I think our friendship could be of mutual benefit to us.”

            The faerie woman nodded.  She had no one else in the mortal world, at least not until she found her lover again and who knew when that would be?  Only the Goddess knew the answer to that. 

            “So, tell me, little Pixie, why is a faerie masquerading as a human?”

            Over a glass of sherry, Anne-Sophie revealed the story of the abdication of her rule of The People for her mortal lover, her life in the human world and Josef, then in turn, shared his story. 

To Anne-Sophie’s benefit, Josef was much wiser in the ways of the world and taught her how to survive in the mortal world by not staying in one place too long and how to assume a new identity.  Time passed and the two made a pact never to forsake one another. Both were happier, knowing they were no longer alone.  No matter where each of them might travel, Josef and the faerie would always know how to reach each other, should one of them need help. 

Over the next three centuries, their wealth grew, thanks to Josef’s acute business sense.  First, the businesses were small but soon grew with the times from factories to corporations, then holding companies, and ultimately a labyrinth of financial organizations that rivaled that of the famed Medici family in wealth.  The faerie soon discovered there were infinitely more vampires than faeries in the world; the vampires, it seemed, had developed a whole subculture in modern society.   Many, like Josef, existed on a combination of purchased human blood and animal blood.  The faerie also knew there were others who happily preyed solely on humans and though she didn’t like it, she accepted it as part of the predatory circle of life in the mortal world.  She had her own mechanism for dealing with wayward vampires; those whom she didn’t like knew to stay clear of her.

 

The vintage Mercedes 450 SLC rolled to a stop in the circular driveway.  The dark-haired man got out, moving with the grace of a runway model and strolled to the front door, where he entered the security code to the house.  I can’t believe this, he thought, who would be so stupid as to turn such a high profile celebrity into a vampire?  It had happened before, sure, but it didn’t last.  Most had to be put down because they couldn’t adapt to the discreet life that they were now forced to live.  A face as famous as Johnny Depp was going to be hard to hide.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny and Fionna get close.

“Well, Miss Fixer…do you have a plan on how to ‘fix’ this?”  Johnny asked her.

He lay on one end of the huge overstuffed couch; she sat at the other with files piled around her.

            “Yeah, I’ll take Harvey to brunch on Sunday.  I’m pretty sure he’ll bury it.  You know, if he hasn’t run it yet, there’s a reason he’s holding on to it and if there’s a reason for that, there can be other options offered.  Normally, he’d run with something like this immediately.  Plus, he owes me a few…Alexa, play “Chocolat” soundtrack.”

The first bars of Minor Swing came ringing through the speakers.  “Lower.”

“You know, I could just go get the guitar and play that for you…”

“I know you could but we should talk a bit before Josef arrives.  Hang on, be right back.”

Fionna went into her bedroom, got a comb and rubberband.

            “Come here and let me comb out that mess,” she said as she patted the ottoman in front of her.  Johnny rose and sat down smiling. 

            “Oh, let me guess…French braid?  What is with you women and that guy?  I mean, what is it about him that you all weak in the knees?”

            “Roux was a true spirit, much like you were at that time.  Carefree, young, in love.  With integrity, and so, so sexy.  If you’d have turned then, you’d be forever young.”

She combed all the tangles out and began braiding his hair.

            “Umm, Fionna, doesn’t this seem awfully intimate for two people who are supposed to keep their distance?”

            “Does it turn you on, having your hair combed?”

            He smiled thoughtfully.

            “No.  It just feels bloody good.  Not like being in hair or makeup chair.  Just nice to have someone touching it, with love.”

            “Is that what you think I feel?”

            “Yes, I can feel you.  Not sexual love, not desire.  An actual warm, caring, like a mother’s love.  Not that I knew that…”

            “I’m sorry for your loss.”  The pain ripped through him, nearly shaking Fionna.  So much had happened to him since in the past few years – loss of his mother, his unhappy marriage, professional issues, all with extensive media coverage.  Though he always tried to appear strong and in control, Fionna sensed the façade wouldn’t hold up much longer.  “You know, we’re going to talk about a lot of things you probably don’t or won’t want to talk about, but it’s part of my process.”  Fionna worked on him energetically as she weaved his hair, pulling out the negativity, sending him her own energy to replace it.  She’d never done this with a vampire, not even Josef.  Josef didn’t have many human issues left when they’d met; he’d already been a vampire for centuries.  “Everything you think you regret in your life has brought you to the place you are now. What you become moving forward is up to you.  I know Josef will help you if you let him.”

Fionna finished the braid, fastening the bottom tight.  Settling back into the couch, she sat back to look at more files.  Johnny moved to the section beside her and then moved to lay his head into her lap.  He looked up with a shy look. 

“Is this OK?  I’m not gonna try anything…I’d just like to be close to you.”

“Sure.  And why don’t you just start telling me whatever you think I need to know about what’s in those stupid files so that I don’t have to read everything through Michael’s filter.”

And so, for the next few hours, they talked, most of it Johnny talking, with Fionna asking a question here or there or adding her perspective.  She could feel the tension and anxiety leaving his body, the clarity returning in his mind, the seeds of a plan being planted. Then they just sat in silence for several minutes, both at peace for the moment.

 

They both heard the car door close, the footsteps and the alarm being deactivated.

“Lucy, I’m home….” Came Josef’s chuckling voice,

As soon as Josef entered the great room, Johnny leaped to his feet, baring his fangs and hissing at him. Stepping protectively in front of Fionna and shielding her from Josef’s view, he stared at Josef and stated, “She’s mine.”

A look of disgust rolled across Josef’s face.

            “Jesus Christ, Fionna, what have you done?  How in the hell did you manage to have him mate with you in less than three hours????”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josef meets Johnny.

Fionna stared at Johnny.

“Hey, it’s OK, this is my friend Josef.  He’s the one who’s going to help you.  And no dude, I am not ‘yours’…I can’t be, remember?  Already promised to someone else…not a vamp.  So put those fangs away…NOW.”

            Johnny stared at both of them, perplexed by the accusation and his own reactions.

“What the hell?  Why did I do that?”

Josef set down his suitcase and bag.  Fionna got up and went to the kitchen immediately to fix him his favorite wine laced with type O pos.  She poured a healthy portion and handed it to him as she came back into room where the two vamps were still having a stare off.

“Thank you, Pixie.  Now, let me guess…you spent the past three hours doing your thing with him, working out those issues and getting all touchy-feely?”

            “Well, not so much touchy, although I did braid his hair. And we might have sort of cuddled on the couch, I mean, he had his head in my lap, it’s not like we were spooning for God’s sake.”

            “He’s trying to mate with you…oh my God, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

            Johnny spoke up.  “I certainly was not ‘mating’ with her, Michael gave me specific instructions about not making any inappropriate advances with said lady. We were just talking.”

Josef just shook his head in disbelief.

            “Who’s your sire, boy”

            “You know I can’t tell you that.”

            “Actually you CAN and WILL.  I’m your elder, by several centuries, do you not know that you must obey an elder?”

            “Why isn’t there a rulebook?  I keep finding out all these things I’m supposed to know already.  Etienne Beaulieu…he lives in France near…”

            Josef snorted in disgust.  “I know where he lives…”  Looking at Fionna, he added, “He’s the one who turned the singer.  It’s his signature, siring famous people, but only males.  Then he abandons them.   Honestly, I don’t know why someone over there hasn’t ended him.  He’s disgusting.”

            “Can you do anything about him?  He shouldn’t be allowed to just screw with people’s lives like this.  It’s bad enough with any mortal, but this may not end well for Johnny.”

            “Hey…still here, people.  Why won’t it end well?”

            “Because famous people like you don’t adapt well to anonymity.  You like the heat too much.  And lately, you’ve been tabloid fodder, as bad as royalty.  I’m assuming all this is because you’re making too many spur-of-the-moment decisions, without considering consequences…things that feel good at the time, like having a fairy braid your hair.  Jesus, Fionna, I thought you would know better.”  Josef shook his head in disgust.

            “Josef!!!”

            Johnny looked at Fionna and smiled.

            “Ah, that’s why you’re different…that’s why he called you ‘pixie’…you’re a bloody fairy!”  Then realizing what he’d said didn’t really make sense, he reflected.  “I mean, is there such a thing?  Really???”

            “Johnny, you mustn’t tell anyone.  Josef is upset or he certainly wouldn’t have disclosed that, would you?” Fionna stared at her friend accusingly.

            Well, he needs to know now why he can’t…I would have had to tell him sooner or later.  It’s vital to his survival.”  Josef nodded toward Fionna.  “Fairies are the biggest threat to your mortality.  Any contact with her bodily fluids…tears, saliva, _and any others_ …will be fatal to you.  Now, lucky for us, there aren’t a lot of them out in the world, way more of us than them, but she can kill you that quick, with just a kiss.”

            Johnny looked her up and down.  “That’s why Michael told me to stay away from you?  He was protecting me?”

            Josef laughed out loud, breaking the previous tension.

            “Oh, no…Michael just doesn’t want you touching anything _he isn’t allowed to touch_.  He doesn’t have any idea and we need to keep it that way.  Now, do you have any clothes here?  Something that doesn’t look like Julian’s pajamas?  Get dressed, we’re going to a party.”

            “Oh, I don’t really feel like going out, I’m pretty relaxed right here with Fionna.”  
            “Which is exactly why you are going out with me. And don’t dress up in all that rock star crap.  Fionna, find him some clothes.  Nice shirt, jeans that fit, something classy.”

            “Angeline’s?”

            “Yes.  I know you would rather he stay here safe and sound, but it’s time he meets others of his kind.  I’ll take care of him, nothing will happen.  I promise, Pixie.  I just need to have him meet some nice vampire girls and get him over this infatuation with you.  That, we know, won’t end well.”  He laughed heartily.  “And what’s up with all the flowers?  Did someone die while I was gone?”


	8. Chapter 8

After I found some blacks jeans and a loose white shirt that somewhat fit him, I left him to get ready and went back to the living room.  My news would have to wait until they returned but I knew Josef would be happy for me.  I’d been alone too long.  I still didn’t know how things were going to work or even if they would for Cian and me but I hoped they would resolve in my favor.  My introspection was interrupted when the two vampires reappeared in the great room,

Johnny looked good, young, sexy, like he did in younger days.

            “So, we’re going to like a vampire brothel?” he asked.

            “No, Angeline is a very old friend of Josef’s.  She knows anybody and everybody in your world.  She’s someone you want on your side, so don’t piss her off.  Follow Josef’s lead in all matters.  Not that you have a choice…” I chuckled under my breath.

            Josef smiled at my advice.

            “Look, I’m sorry, pixie, for going off on you.  I forget that I was already mature when I met you…otherwise, I’d have fallen for you, too.”  His eyes told me everything he wanted to say but didn’t.  After centuries together, we spoke in our own shorthand.  “C’mon, Johnny, let’s go.  Your new life awaits.”

            Tomorrow, I’d call JoJo and square things up with him – a line of credit at the equipment supplier should do it, along with a promise of some exclusives in the future.  Same with Harvey, who exchanged favors with me on a regular basis.  By Sunday evening, when Michael returned, all would be well, at least on the surface.  He would have no idea that Johnny would soon be under the protection of one of the world’s oldest vampires, a man he viewed only as a adversary in the entertainment world.   And it would only be the beginning of how my long term (well, long for Hollywood and mortals) relationship with Michael Stewart began to unravel…


End file.
